I failed. Even suicide was beyond me. The only thing I really knew was that sadness was -for now- no longer adequate. My sorrow was soon melting into something life self destructive rage. I couldn't bear to be in my own skin at this point. I hated everything from my curls to my toes. Every inch of myself evoked stomach turning disgust. This body was inadequate. This body couldn't run fast enough. It couldn't cast well enough. It couldn't fall quick enough and I hated it for its every disgusting transgression.
It seemed that every breath I took fanned the flames in my belly and I relished it. It was so much easier to feel anger, it was satisfying in a way that sadness wasn't.
The curtains around my bed shifted open revealing two people I never wanted to see again. Just like that all of the hate I felt for myself bubbled up and over, extending to the men before me. "How dare you?" I hissed. Even my voice was inadequate. It was too soft, too understanding. They wouldn't take me seriously. They'd think it was funny, but I was much too angry to care.
Zabini stepped forward a smidgen assuming that -because he hadn't pushed me to suicide- that I'd be more receiving of him. Wrong. I tumbled out of bed, uncaring of how the tiles hurt my hip. What did it matter?
"Granger-," Zabini began, his expression suggested he was remorseful, but he wasn't supposed to feel bad now. He was supposed to feel all of the regret that I saw plainly in his eyes when McGonagall announced that I was already dead. This was all wrong and the thought of giving him a chance at peace once I finally got my way was enough to make me retch.
"We're not trying to hurt you-," Malfoy insisted. I turned to him like a wild, caged animal.
"Don't speak to me!" I snapped toward the blonde. Rationality was lost to me as they stared stupidly in my direction, "how dare you do this to me?"
"Granger, we saved you." Zabini assured me evenly. His expression implied that he feared for my sanity. It was much too late for that.
I scoffed wickedly, "saved me? What -pray tell- did you save me from? Peace? You didn't save me, you've doomed me."
"We know you're upset." Malfoy's voice was pitched low in his best attempt at a nonthreatening tone, "but we haven't -intentionally- don't anything to hurt you. Since this afternoon."
Deciding they were no longer worth my time I turned to leave and finish what I started. These idiots had only served to inspire me to end it quicker.
"I'm sorry, Granger," came the defeated voice of Malfoy as I took my wand from the bedside table, "I didn't see-" his statement doused the embers of the fire in gasoline. I froze, my foot poised to take another step, but never making. My body grew hot and before I could stop myself I'd turned on my heel. My body was moving of its own according, propelling me quicker and quicker toward the offending blonde. Before I knew it I'd sent my fist into his nose. It gave beneath my knuckles with a satisfying crunch, sending him stumbling backwards.
"Save it!" I shrieked. Malfoy looked a little unnerved as I clenched my wand within my other hand. His blood began to stain his pale hands, but he made no move to retaliate.
"Granger-," Zabini interjected.
"You're full of shit you inbred twat! Stay away from me, both of you!" This time my dramatic exit was stopped by Headmistress McGonagall. For the first time since I woke up I found the long lost ability to feel ashamed. There was no doubt that she'd heard my vulgar conversation with those too.
"Ms. Granger," her hands were clasped in front of her, stern expression in place. Whenever I was in front of her I felt like a child. She was only a woman, but her presence said so much more. She had power, she never felt the way I did. No one teased her, no one left her...
"I'm sorry, Headmistress." I murmured softly, "I had no idea you were…" it seemed her mere presence had smothered the flames of my eternal rage. She offered me a pained smile.
"If what these boys say is true then you've got bigger problems than worrying about what I've heard." When silence fell she ushered me back into bed and conjured three chairs.
"Headmistress-,"
"I'm sorry Hermione," she told me gently, "but in your current state I can't trust you to tell me the truth."
"And you can trust them?" I asked in disbelief, "Headmistress, please-," she cast a silencing charm on me.
"If you're a danger to yourself I need to know about it. These boys are on probation, meaning they wouldn't have crossed my path unless they were certain you were going to harm yourself." I crossed my arms over my chest in an act of defeat. Why did it take a girl launching herself from the window of the highest point of a castle for the officials to get involved. I loved and respected McGonagall in a way that was nearly obsessive, but she wasn't on her game this year and I could only wonder why that was, "boys, your proof?"
Malfoy dug the note that I written for him out of his pocket, handing it over to McGonagall. It was crumbled and from what I could see the ink was a bit smeared. Reading the letter took up mere moments of her time.
"Draco and I caught her jumping out of the window in the Astronomy. Exactly where…" Zabini's voice faltered for just a moment, "you can look at my memories if that's...easier." There was silence as she looked him in his eye and relived the experience. After a few moments she cleared her throat and looked at me sadly.
"Do you want to be better?" She asked me. The question was so simple it caught me off guard, "I can assign you new roommates. My door can be open all day for the rest of the school year and it won't mean a thing unless you want to live."
She removed the spell and the three of them were looking at me expectantly. Why would I want to live? I was alone. Everything I'd ever loved was gone and my last chance, the last ray of hope was tainted with their memory.
"No." My voice trembled, but the meaning was strong, "it's too hard. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." As I apologized the words began to break in various places. The bed dipped beside me as I fought back tears. McGonagall looked horrified at my answer. Not wanting to live...my grandparents once considered depression and suicide 'new age bullshit', I could only wonder if McGonagall saw it the same way.
"We're sorry, for treating you the way we did." Zabini's arms were strong around my torso, crushing me against his chest, "hurting you was never supposed to go this far." The bed dipped by my feet and Malfoy began to pet my shins.
"Please don't give up." The blonde mumbled, "what would Potter say?"
"You don't know a thing about Harry!" I snapped instantly. He didn't stop his petting, instead he shrugged. Seven years knowing him and I still couldn't read the emotions in his eyes.
"You didn't know everything about Potter," he assured me, "we spoke civilly -once- and he entrusted me with one thing. The trick is, I won't give it to you until you're better." As if, if Harry entrusted anything to anyone that didn't have red hair I was a pedophilic, dark purple dinosaur.
"You're a liar." I snarled, calling his bluff. Without a word to defend himself he plunged a pale hand into his pocket. He openened his fist is what seemed to be slow motion. The golden chain hung on his finger and I watched as it dropped from his finger. Dangling at the lowest point of the chain was a white gold wedding band complete with a large diamond, surrounded by rubies. Lily Potter's ring. According to Harry the heirloom was passed from Snape to and now it seemed it had gone from him to Malfoy. Well paint me purple and call me Barney.
"He stopped me in the hall a week before the final battle, yanked my arms back, and planted this in my hand. He told me that if anything were to happen to him I was to give it to you." It surprised me that Malfoy actually listened and didn't just drop the ring in the nearest rubbish bin.
"Then give it to me!" I demanded, not trusting him with something so precious for a moment longer. The very thought of clutching something that once belonged to my best friend nearly drove me to attack the blonde git, but since he was already sporting a crooked nose I figured it would be pushing my luck. He refused.
"When you're better, I'll give it to you." He pocketed the treasure.
"If I'm dead it won't matter." I assured him.
"You see that's where he's got you," Zabini chuckled, "we've already arranged it with Snape. We're your new roommates. Headmistress has been kind enough to kick Theodore Nott out of his space in our room and place you there instead. You see if you die because we were twits we'll never forgive ourselves, so the longer you fight recovery the longer you're away from that little heirloom."
"What happened to having a choice?" Even though it was merely an act of selfish retribution I couldn't help the tears welling up in my eyes. Having anyone care on any level was more than I'd experienced in months.
"Headmistress said you had a choice. Neither of us said any such thing." Zabini chuckled.
*****I tried to add a touch of humor in there, but whatever. Also, I don't suffer from depression or suicidal thoughts so if I'm getting something wrong when it comes down to her recovery do feel free to let me know in the reviews or in a PM. Thanks a million, review (honestly most people get like 25 reviews per chapter and I'm trying desperately to figure out how this even happens!) I love it like cheese and grapes.*****